How Lucky We Are
by BeneathTheUmbrella
Summary: Tracy counts herself lucky to be able to experience this momentous event with Ted.


_So, did y'all really think I wouldn't write a little something after the Cavs finally won the NBA championship? Wanted to get this up quickly after the game but, as is usual, life happens. (For more Cavs fic, you can also read_ Coming Home _and_ Maybe Next Year _from my fic repertoire.) Enjoy!_

* * *

"Woooooooooo!"

Ted was practically screaming, elated. After a couple of circles around the coffee table, he took Tracy in his arms and gave her a long and passionate kiss, leaving her breathless. "Can you believe it, babe?" he asked, eyes shining.

No, Tracy couldn't believe it. She really couldn't. She glanced over at the TV screen, LeBron James on his hands and knees, weeping openly. Honestly, she was kind of surprised her fiancé wasn't doing the same...

Ted, bless him, had believed it could happen. That it _would_ happen. Maybe it was just his usual hopeful and optimistic self. Maybe it was her pep talk from last year that resonated with him still, that had given him hope.

Whichever it was, that positivity had sustained him up until this moment.

The moment when the Cleveland Cavaliers actually won the 2016 NBA Championship.

Today had already been a pretty good day, making it hard to top. It was Father's Day, after all, so it was a busy and wonderful one, Tracy especially relieved that Ted was actually home to celebrate it. They enjoyed an eventful brunch with Tracy's family, then spent a sunny afternoon at the park, followed by a quiet family dinner before the game, just the three of them.

Ted had put Penny in a wine-colored polka dot onesie (the Cleveland sports indoctrination had started very early), he in his own Cavs jersey, bouncing the baby on his knee during the first quarter, already past her bedtime. But Tracy let him have that moment with her, to at least enjoy a few minutes of the game with their daughter before they put her to bed. After all, these moments between the two of them had been so infrequent as of late.

It had been a crazy two months. Ted had been away in Washington state since mid-April, working on his new building, flying back home every couple of weeks or so.

He had been rather sad and grumpy ever since he left for the west coast. He knew that designing a building (having two of them under his belt at his age, at that!) was impressive and huge for his career. But being away from her and Penny was actually harder on him than Tracy had initially anticipated.

Of course, Tracy missed him terribly, as well. Probably more than she cared to admit to him, because he would be even more of a wreck if he knew. So she was determined to remain the strong one, the logical one, the one who would remind Ted that he was doing something wonderful, that she and Penny were proud of him, and that they were always waiting for him to return home.

So throughout the separation, it was the NBA semi-finals and finals that sustained him. Tracy'd either get random texts all the way from his hotel room in Spokane—Tracy admittedly watched the games while he was away, because she felt closer to him doing so, and due to the fact that she'd become a fan of the Cavs herself, in solidarity with her fiancé. Or she'd watch Ted watch the game from the opposite end of the sofa in their living room, happy to have him home again, even for a little while.

And that was Tracy's favorite part. Being able to watch Ted experience this series—both the downs and the ups, but particularly the last four games, leading to the Cavs' victory—seeing this childlike happiness in him.

Because she would notice his pouty face during nighttime Skype sessions while apart. His teary eyes every time he had to say goodbye before leaving for the airport. And it admittedly broke Tracy's heart. So to see his eyes light up every time the Cavs scored a point, punch the air victoriously after every good play, well, it brought her a sense of relief and joy, happy to see him happy.

Tonight's Game 7 was a particularly emotional match; Ted could hardly sit still. When he wasn't pacing the living room or standing in front of the TV, hand to hip, he was sitting next to Tracy on the couch, eyes fixated on the screen, his hand gently gripping at her thigh, as if he needed it—needed _her_ —for the support. This was where she could _almost_ see his resolve faltering, as the final quarter proved to be a tense and unpredictable one, but his faith never wavered.

Ted loved this sport and this damn team so much, and she loved him so damn much sometimes she couldn't breathe, that this very moment right here—next to watching him hold Penny for the first time, of course—was probably a peak moment of her love for him.

They were both in their own little bubble now, excitedly bouncing on their toes between kisses, the loud noise from the TV and Ted's phone buzzing endlessly on the coffee table (likely Punchy, texting Ted maddingly about the win) acting as their background music. Tracy's motherly instincts were turned off for a few moments, not thinking that Penny—now fast asleep upstairs—could very easily be woken up by the commotion.

But for now, it was just him and her, reveling in the Cavs' win, in this moment, in their love for each other. Because in between bouts of hardships, loneliness, boredom and separation, there were little joys such as this—a once-in-a-lifetime event that was both momentous and low-key all at once—that they were lucky enough to experience, to be alive and to be able to savor together.

 _END_


End file.
